


Road to Ruin

by Saltlord (ash_wolfling)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Based on "alone together" by fob, Depression, I wrote this in a week so it probaby needs edited, I'm bad at writing smut, M/M, Smut allusions, Suicide, They're sad dorks, dirk's pov, good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 12:18:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_wolfling/pseuds/Saltlord
Summary: Two depressed boys who are flushed. Someone please read it and give me a better summary since I'm so fucking bad at these. They um, hold hands, y,ea h





	1. Beginning at the End

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm sorry to the people waiting for my first work to update, this one is actually completed but I'm going to stagger the chapters. Please enjoy ;o;

They hated him. Dirk was sure of it. Not in a deep, malicious way, nor in the strange pitch romance that he’d become accustomed to while living with the trolls around. No, it was in an offhanded way, the kind of hatred that’s barely more than intense annoyance, barely covered up for the sake of pity.

He had Dave, sure, and that was something. But when was the last time his brother had come over? They talked less. This could only be because Dirk was an unpleasant, depressed person and was no more than an emotional burden in his circle of “friends”. Roxy was never around, Jane didn’t stay in touch, Jake was too busy with other things. He didn’t want to bother them. It bothered them when he did, even if they didn’t tell him, right?

And so it continued, he contacted them less and less, and in turn they seemingly forgot he existed. Things that he had previously enjoyed became boring, stressful, even. He began dreading when he would have to take care of his bots, or cook meals for himself, or style his hair to go out. In short, he was depressed, and with no idea how to cope with it.

One night he decided it wasn’t worth it. He threw some clothes, some junk food and his glasses into a backpack and left. To where, he didn’t know, but deep down he told himself he would never come back. It was a surprisingly relieving thought, actually. They would assume he was dead –which he might be by then-- and move on.

He walked, and walked, caring little about where he was going as long as he was getting away from the cities and people. Finally he came to the cliffs and frowned. To the left was the city and to the right, just out of sight, he knew was a smaller cluster of houses and hives. All he could do now was move forward. Drowning was an option, he mused numbly. Yet it took him all of three steps into the cold water to know that, deep down, he couldn’t do it. Frustrated with himself, Dirk groaned loudly and continued walking along the shoreline, shoes and socks now soaking wet. Fantastic.

Dirk’s wet feet brought him around a jagged crop of cliffs and, just on the other side, a small fishing boat. He paused, wondering if it was even worth it to try talking to anyone and yet…

“Hello?” He called out, approaching the stake where the boat was anchored. Nothing. He almost turned to keep walking when a voice behind him startled him out of his gloominess, if only for a moment.

“What exactly are you doin’ next to my ship?” The irritated voice answered. Dirk turned and came face-to-face with someone who managed to look even more tired than he did.

“I, um, I don’t know. I just saw that it was here and wondered if you were taking passengers,” Dirk replied flatly, omitting that he wasn’t sure if a boat this small even counted as a ship. The stranger paused to consider this, giving Dirk a moment to look him over.

In the pale light of the full moon, he could make out curved horns on what was clearly a troll, and said troll was sporting an unusual set of fins on his ears. A streak of purple adorned the middle of his hair and a pair of tired, melancholic violet eyes that never quite lifted to his own were beneath a thick pair of glasses. He looked like he hadn’t been eating well and, if the tears in his cloak were any sign, he hadn’t been caring for himself either. But who was Dirk to judge? He wasn’t too content with the person he saw in mirrors, either. Bags under his eyes, hollowing cheek bones, those unnerving orange eyes that stared back at him accusingly –no, he didn’t look much better either. Finally the figure sighed and, with a shrug, continued walking up towards the deck of the ship.

“Fine, I guess. But don’t stay for too long, I’m not...” He opened his mouth to continue, then closed it again and seemed to slump, “… not sure where I’m going.”

“That makes two of us. I don’t care where we’re going, just… I’m not coming back. Just drop me off somewhere remote and I’ll be fine,” Dirk said, following after him. “And how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, I just hope you brought your own supplies.” The figure said with what was almost a bite in his tone. Dirk nodded.

“Yeah, I did, don’t worry about it. I’m Dirk Strider, by the way,” he said, offering his hand. The troll hesitated, then shook it.

“Eridan Ampora,” he mumbled. “There’s a storage room below deck, there should be an extra bed.”

“Thanks.”

That was the last of it. They parted then, Eridan fixing the sails to set out while Dirk made his way below deck. He had to admit, muted as it all felt, it was kind of cool to be on a boat. Dumping his pack on the floor of the storage room, he surveyed his temporary sleeping quarters.

A fine layer of dust coated everything. That “everything” was comprised of boxes and shelves, musty and smelling faintly of mildew. One cot was pushed into the corner, covered in papers. They were written in troll alternian, which he had never bothered learning, and seemed to be ancient maps and designs. Beside them was a broken lantern.

Five minutes and several screws later, the lantern was burning with a dull glow. It wasn’t much longer before looking through some of the surrounding boxes led to the discovery of some bedsheets and blankets. Mindlessly, Dirk made the bed and sat down, briefly letting his mind wander. Had anyone noticed him leave yet? No, of course not. Even if they had, which was impossible, they couldn’t reach him. He sighed. This wasn’t what he wanted to think about right now. Troubled, he pulled a blanket over himself and went to sleep.

After a long night of mercifully dreamless sleep, Dirk found himself laying in bed with his eyes closed, half convinced he could remain like that for the rest of the day. It would be nice, with the so unfamiliar smells around him, the rough fabric of the blanket over his bare shoulders. Somehow, the unfamiliarity of it all was a comfort in and of itself.

He spent a few more hours in this state of being partially asleep until his bladder decided it was time to get up. With a groan, Dirk pulled on his clothes and went to the single-stall bathroom on the boat.

It was… Rustic, he decided. Rustic was a good euphemism for old-fashioned, and by old-fashioned he meant he nearly fell in through the cracked toilet and down into the rushing water below. And to think he could have just pissed over the deck. Frowning, he returned to the deck, squinting even through his tinted glasses.

It was a bright day out, one of those days where it hurts to look at anything painted white and the human eyes need a prolonged sequence of rapid blinking and vocal discomfort to truly adjust. Once Dirk had completed this, he began searching for his current companion. A quick sweep of the boat confirmed his suspicion that Eridan had, in fact, managed to sleep in even later than he had. Wondering if he should double check or not, his feet brought him to the door of the main cabin, where he raised his fist to knock.

“Eridan? Hey, it’s me, I was wondering if you could tell me how long it’ll be before you drop me off,” Dirk called out. There was no reply. He nearly turned to leave when he heard something large fall to the floor with a thunk, followed by loud alternian cursing. The uniquely recognizable sound of an empty bottle rolling across the floor followed this, and then there was silence. Finally the door was yanked open.

“W-what the fuck do ya want, Strider?” Eridan responded grumpily, tugging his shirt on. Dirk grimaced.

“Just wanted to know when you’re dropping me off, and-- are you okay? I heard a thump,” he said. Eridan stood back and gestured for the other to enter, not without a considerable amount of grumbling. Dirk began to wish he had waited until he had woken up of his own accord.

Noticeably, the interior of this cabin was larger than his own humble sleeping space, and had more of a lived in feeling to it. More books were piled up on shelves beside carvings of wizards on pedestals and the occasional pile of ancient-looking gold coins.

The seadweller grumpily shoved some empty bottles off of his desk and unfurled a great map across its surface, then began tracing over lines and numbers to find their position. Dirk wrinkled his nose as the door closed and a smell became far more apparent.

“Dude, have you been drinking?” He asked, taking his glasses off as his eyes went to the trouble of readjusting to the dark room. Eridan shot him a glare.

“So what if I have? Ain’t none of your business,” was Eridan’s curt reply. Dirk sighed and went to stand beside him over the map. Between the cursive scrawls and foreign landmarks, the ancient paper was all but nonsense to him. The troll, however, had no problem pointing down at a particular point in one of the seas, looking up at some of the brass instruments nailed to the wall, then moving his finger down a few centimeters.

“We’re right here, three days away from Hintern. I hope you brought enough supplies for yourself because you sure as hell aren’t gettin’ any from me.” Eridan said. Dirk’s brow furrowed and he pointed to what looked to him like land.

“What about this over here? If this is land,” he said and got an affirmative nod, “can you just drop me off here?”

“Unexplored territory, about a day away, but you don’t want to go there. It’s naught but cliffs, sun, cactus an’ wild lussii. You’ll be dead within hours,” the seadweller said offhandedly. Dirk gave him a very pained smile.

“Sounds perfect!” Dirk replied, straightening his back. Eridan gave him a look of annoyance.

“Strider, I’m not fuckin’ with ya here. Remember how civilization used to think the world was flat an’ traversin’ past a few point would kill ya, “beyond this point there be dragons”, all that? This is what they were talkin’ about. No one lives there, there’s no water, an’ it would kill you. I’m not takin ya there.” Eridan explained, slowly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it was.

“Eridan, that is exactly what I’m looking for, right now it’s that or throwing myself overboard.” Was Dirk’s calm response. The annoyance on the other’s face turned to worry and his heart sank.

“Strider, are you doin’ okay?” He asked, straightening from his hunched position over the map. There was something in his voice that sounded too cautious, yet… Sympathetic? Dirk, shrugged and pushed his glasses back on, taking a few steps back.

“I’m fine, fantastic, just drop me off wherever, I don’t care,” he spat out before turning heel and leaving the cabin. Eridan made a move to follow, but the footsteps behind Dirk finally stopped halfway across the deck.

The day was as bright as ever, gulls calling overhead, sparkling water spreading out as far as the eye could see. Right now, the world really did feel flat. If only he could reach the edge, then jump off…

Unreasonably angry with himself –for what, he wasn’t sure, or cared-- Dirk went back to the storage room below the deck. It was colder down here, and darker. The sense of bored uselessness overcame him once more; it seemed that it had finally caught up to him out here.

Scanning the shelves, he lit the lamp again and began looking for something to look at.

Most of what he found was useless to him. Ship manuals in alternian, dull romance novels in languages known to troll and human, even a large leatherbound tome on stories of wizards. It reminded him of his cousin, Rose. He would have liked to show her if he could, except-- he was never going to see her again.

The realization hit him like a punch to the stomach. He would never see her again, or speak to her, or listen to her psychoanalyzing his robots’ behaviours. And Roxy, fuck, he didn’t even say goodbye to her. How long would it take her to stop worrying about him? When would she finally accept that he was out somewhere, dead? And Dave. His own brother, whose acute sense of irony was so unique, who used to laugh at Dirk’s bad puns and send him comics and--

Dirk jerked upwards, dashed out the door, he had to tell Eridan to turn the boat around, his friends were worried, he couldn’t do this, he--

He was on the third step up when the moment passed. Rose hadn’t messaged him in weeks. Didn’t even remember he existed. Roxy was always out with her girlfriends, and after his wedding, Dave rarely came around even to see if Dirk was still breathing. He slumped against the rail. They wouldn’t care, none of them, and if they did they would get over it. It would be good for them in the end. One less clingy, overbearing person to worry about.

Dirk sank to the wooden steps and wrapped his arms around his knees helplessly. In the distance he could hear the footsteps and clicking of Eridan adjusting the ship’s wheel and a weak voice in his mind told him it wasn’t too late, he could still go back. It eventually went silent.

When he had stopped shaking, he stood up and dragged himself back into the room, staring miserably up at the shelves. He needed something to do, even a day more like this would be hell.

His hands found themselves atop the stack of repair manuals, foreign in language but familiar in the paper, in the illustrations of machine parts and wires. Mindlessly he picked up a box of scrap metal and sifted through it for anything salvageable. Following the designs in one of the books, he strung together a rotary contraption of sorts, even fancied he picked up a few words in alternian as he did. Truth be told, he had no idea what its purpose was, or even if he had used the right materials. It looked fairly identical to the one in the manual, only the parts that were supposed to be welded together were stuck with bits of wire, and it was missing a spark plug. This was by far the most useless thing he had build so far.

Sitting on the floor against the cot, holding this strange piece of makeshift ship equipment with no viable purpose, Dirk threw his head back and laughed. It was a dry, hoarse sound, but not wholly unpleasant.

The rest of his daylight hours was spent making other such items, some with obvious uses, some that he was sure he could complete with instructions in English, some which had no basis in design other than his own dry sense of humor. A phallus-shaped piece of tubing tipped with a lightbulb glowed dimly beside his leg beside an electronically improvised door handle. Scraps of wire and metal lay scattered around him and, after what felt like a good hour or two, Dirk realized he needed the lamp on to see. Through the crack in the door, he could see stars.

Abandoning his glasses and lantern on the floor beside the cot, Dirk traversed back up the stairs and back onto the deck. Out in the distance he could make out a thin, black crest of land, so much further now than when he had gone below the deck. The deep waters lapped gently at the rocking boat, the waves sparkling with reflected moonlight. Millions of stars above him powdered the sky, shimmering and sparkling with light of their own. It was, in all honesty, beautiful.

He felt much better now. His mind had been filled up with gibberish letters and vaguely important numbers and now it just felt pleasantly empty. This was his preferable state of mind. Crisp silence surrounded him; it was silence in such a way that all the continuous noise harmonized into a quiet lullaby. Masts creaking, sails flapping, water splashing. Not one was louder than the other, nor more pronounced. Dirk found a comfortably spot at the base of the mast, leaning against the cold wood, his head nestled between two rope hooks. A cold breeze rifled through his hair and he took a deep breath of sea mist. It was a wonderfully stark contrast to the thick heat that had accumulated in his room. Had he really been downstairs for that long? Oh well.

The rest of the night he intended to stay seated above deck, falling asleep beneath the light of the stars.

Fate did not allow this.


	2. A creative title, a good title

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dude i just write I don't know how to fuckin, titles and summaries n shit

No more than an hour passed before he began feeling large droplets of water hitting him, hearing them splatter across the deck. Swearing under his breath, Dirk stood up just in time to see a wave rise and crash against the mast where he’s previously been sleeping, carrying away a coil of rope. Moments later the poor rope was out in the middle of the ocean. Massive grey clouds tumbled through the sky and engulfed the remaining visible stars in murky darkness.

Lighting crashed. One of the masts creaked louder than it should have. Dirk searched around frantically, unsure what to do, he had never been on a ship, he didn’t know what to do to help, where might be safe, who would-- Eridan.

He splashed up the deck and to the cabin, swinging the door open and searching for the only experienced person aboard. Finally he spotted him. The troll was still curled up in bed, soundly asleep. Dirk nearly yelled but opted for dashing over the bottles and papers to shake him awake.

“Look, I know you’re asleep, but it’s pouring out there and there’s water everywhere and lightning and I need you to help!” He finally yelled, turning the other onto his side. Eridan groaned.

“Good, maybe I’ll die,” he grumbled drowsily, then went back to sleep. Another crack of lightning broke outside, muffled by the thick wooden walls. Dirk gaped at him, then shook harder.

“Wake up!” He all but screamed and this time it did wake him. Eridan scrambled away from him, opening his mouth to yell, then going pale at the sight of the rain through the open door.

“Fuck. Fuckin’ rain, why didn’t I check the barometer before fallin’ asleep, dammit Strider get your pale human ass out there and make yourself useful!” He commanded, dropping the bottle he’s been clutching, then attempting to stand and nearly pitching forward. Dirk took a hold of his arms while he steadied himself.

“Are you drunk? Now?!” Dirk accused, glaring at the semi-conscious troll next to him. He certainly smelled drunk. Eridan shook him off.

“Don’t matter. Get out onto the deck and start furlin’ the sails, an’ if you can’t even function on that level of competence then get a damn rope an’ start- aaaaah!” He was cut off as the boat gave a sickening lurch to the side and they both toppled into the wall, “start tyin’ the barrels down.”

Dirk didn’t catch all of this but nodded and dashed back out, the other hot on his heels. Rain pelted down harder than before. Eridan headed straight to the ship’s wheel and suddenly the ship was shifting beneath his feet and, just like that, the nauseating rocking stopped. Dirk sighed in relief and made it to the mast. He could barely make out the tips of the sails through the heavy sheets of raindrops. Swearing, he put his hands on the ropes and began trying to figure it out. There was what even he realized as alternian vulgarities yelled at him and then something was yanked around his waist.

“What the fuck are you doin? I thought ya knew to get a lifeline on first!” Eridan said, tying a few rapid knots in the rope around Dirk’s waist. There was no time to respond before a second rope was thrust into his hands.

“I’m gonna scale the mast, when I wave you’re goin’ to pull on this, hard as you can. Got it?” He yelled over the thunder. Dirk nodded and watched as Eridan pulled himself up onto the huge pole and up went the sails, one by one. It all seemed to be going well until a wild white flapping caught his eye and he turned just quickly enough to see one of the sails get torn off and spiral into the wind. The longer he watched, the further it went. Off into the rain, held adrift by the winds. It looked like one of the gulls.

A faint, angry scream snapped him back to his senses and he looked up to see Eridan flailing his arm and he yanked, hard, expecting far less resistance. There were a few minutes of struggle before it gave away and the final sails were strung up. Still pulling hard on the rope in his hands, Dirk tied it onto one of the hooks and waited for Eridan to come down. He was climbing down, lower, and--

And a gust of wind hit at the wrong moment. Eridan Ampora was hurled to the surface of the deck with a sickening crunch. Dirk ran towards him, slipping and nearly falling himself in what was now several inches of water. His thoughts seemed frozen. Later he would wonder why he had cared so much about surviving, even curse himself for it. But for now the fact of the matter was that Eridan was the one here who knew what to do, not him, and thus he wouldn’t be able to survive this.

When he reached the body, Dirk’s fingers went to his neck first, heaving a sigh of relief at the strong pulse beneath his skin. Then he twitched, and moved, glaring up at Dirk. That annoyance was more reassuring than it had any right to be.

“Are the barrels secured?” He said, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Dirk pushed him back down.

“Is your lifeline on?” Dirk replied saltily, noticing the lack of rope on the other’s waist. “And no, I was too busy coming to see if you were alive.”

“And so I am. Damn,” groaned Eridan, low enough to miss. Dirk didn’t miss it.

“Don’t try to get up right now, you could have internal bleeding and shit. Just tell me what to do. The barrels, what else?” He replied, struggling with the careful knots around his waist and wrapping it around the other.

“Shit. I need to steer. We’re,” he coughed, “going out of alignment. That’ll make the ship get toppled. Just- help me up. Forget the barrels, there’s more in the cargo bay.”

Dirk nodded, helping Eridan to his feet. With one arm over Dirk’s shoulders, the troll half-limped up the steps and behind the wheel, then his face fell.

“Don’t worry Cap’n, I’ve got you,” Dirk told him. The seadweller nodded and placed his hands on the spikes of the wildly spinning wheel. Held up from behind, Eridan began pulling the ship into a line perpendicular with the waves.

Dirk had no idea what the other was doing, but the ship once again steadied itself. It was interesting holding up the other’s body while he steered. Useless trivia told him that seadwellers were naturally cold blooded, yet it was still strange being pressed up to someone so cold. He wondered if Eridan was thinking the same of Dirk. Judging by his strained expression, he doubted it. One by one he watched the barrels roll off the deck. Then went a couple crates. It was unbelievably frustrating. It was just the two of them and the ship; if one should fail, so would the other. Clinging to the troll, Dirk’s breathing slowed. All his energy was focused on holding up Eridan. Somehow, even during all this, the thought of welcoming death never even crossed his mind.

Eventually the rain slowed to mere patches of sleet and the waves settled. By then the sky had begun to brighten, becoming lighter still as the clouds gave way to soft blue. Silence fell. Dirk’s arms had become numb by this point. It felt like the sheer force of his willpower was the only thing keeping the troll upright.

“I think… We’re done...” Eridan muttered, then slumped completely. Dirk caught him before he hit the wooden flooring, then yawned and picked up the unconscious seadweller and carried him into his cabin.

Were all seadwellers this light? He’d tried picking up Karkat once and remembered vocally comparing the troll to some outrageous amount of brick or other, so he knew it wasn’t solely a troll characteristic. It didn’t matter right now, he could worry later. Dirk set down the body onto the bed and made for the doorway. Ultimately, he made it as far as the desk chair, then fell into it and sank into the deepest sleep of his life.

When he awoke, the clock on the wall told him it couldn’t be earlier than three in the afternoon. Every muscle in his body ached, especially his arms. He tried stretching them and yelped. After doing a quick once-over of his body, he found nothing more severe than some large bruises and one shallow scratch across his thigh. Recollecting his memories from the storm, he remembered the troll and leapt to his feet. A moment later he was at the side of his bed.

Eridan looked far worse. The fin on his left ear was split, its delicate webbing torn in half. A deep gash was the most prominent injury that he could see, running from his shoulder to his elbow. All of that sleeve was mangled and crusted over with dark violet blood. Dirk noted that his own chest was stained violet now as well and told himself to check Eridan’s back when he got the chance. Everything else was hidden by

His hands hovered unsurely over the seadweller. Now what? He racked his mind for any useful knowledge on first aid. He needed proper equipment, bandages, Dave always kept a first aid kit under the bathroom sink. And in the closet of his bedroom, for some reason, but never told Dirk why. Just one of his little brother’s habits, he guessed.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dirk rushed down to the bathroom to see if there was one there. He crossed the deck to get there. He should have expected some level of damage, but hadn’t braced himself for this. Chunks of wood were missing from the deck –some spots were missing entire floorboards. The hull was missing its railing and it seemed a miracle that the masts were still standing. Grimacing, he noticed the splintered wood where the figurehead had rested. It had been some ornate seahorse statue, he recalled, and somehow he knew Eridan would mourn that far more than any other damage taken to the ship. It was a shame.

Searching for the kit took longer than he expected. It wasn’t in the bathroom, or the storage room, and it wasn’t until he searched the cargo bay that he found anything. More barrels and crates were shoved to the corner. Maybe he just wasn’t knowledgeable on these things, but did it seem a bit too empty? Where was the food, the supplies? This troubled him. Just as Eridan’s remarks on not dying from the fall…

Grimacing, he picked up a suitcase with a red cross on it and hurried back up the steps. What did he know about first aid? Wounds had to be disinfected with alcohol-- or was it antiseptic? What even was antiseptic? He knew from experience how to treat cuts with a varying degree of certainty, sure, but if Eridan had any crushed bones or internal bleeding then he was screwed.

Once he was inside the cabin, Dirk set the kit next to the bed and turned on one of the lamps to see what he had to work with. The kit snapped open easily. Inside of it were rows of bottles, operation tools, a large pack of cotton swabs, and a roll of gauze. It all looked brand new. Right now he really wished he hadn’t left his phone in his house, merely so that he could look up how to do any of this. He would have to make do with what he knew.

First was to find the biggest wounds. Wincing at the sight of Eridan’s torn up shirt, he reached down and found a pair of sterilized metal scissors. Within moments the other’s shirt was cut cleanly away and Dirk looked over his chest and arms. Bruises everywhere, but less cuts than he imagined. He breathed a sigh of relief. He would work with this.

It didn’t take as long as he thought it would. Dirk cleaned up the gash on Eridan’s arm, and when it wouldn’t stop bleeding, he braced himself and began putting in stitches. Five, six, seven, pulling tighter on the suture until he could no longer see the violet muscles underneath. Then he checked his legs. A few more smaller cuts, easily cleaned and bandaged, dotted his calves. The only real injury that Dirk could find was his ankle.

Eridan’s ankle was, unfortunately, swollen to twice its size and bent at a highly uncomfortable looking angle. It looked broken. Dirk paused, wondering just what to do for it. He couldn’t think of anything. Uttering some small noise of frustration, he set the bandages back down on the floor and sat down to think.

Now that he had patched up Eridan’s injuries to the best of his abilities, what was left to do? A hot meal was as good a cure as any, as Jane had always said. Dirk cursed himself. Jane would know what to do, Dave would know how to treat these injuries, Jake-- he pushed the thoughts away.

Nonetheless, he walked into the kitchen he’d noticed earlier. It was, much like the cargo hold, empty. This also worried him. What had Eridan been eating? He couldn’t have been living off of alcohol this whole time, even Dirk had eaten a bag of doritos and some soda since leaving. This didn’t feel right.

The cupboards were fairly bare. A few cans of food were shoved into the corners, abandoned; green beans, “moo-beast” soup, asparagus and what he recognized as grub sauce. Unfortunately he had no idea what to do with any of these. Beside the stove was a rack of spices, the only full thing here. He made a mental note to look at them more later. Inside the refrigerator was an onion, half a bottle of maple syrup and several more glass bottles of whatever Eridan was drinking. Dirk pulled one out, sniffed it, and gagged. Of all his bad habits, alcoholism had never been one of them.

In the end he dumped the beef soup into a pot and began heating it up. While he waited, he sat at the table, thinking. None of this felt right. Why didn’t Eridan have more supplies? And his reaction to the map, as though he hadn’t even considered where he might be docking. The alcohol, the grumpiness, the (hopefully ironic)remorse he’d held upon realizing he was still alive. Dirk didn’t like it. He’d heard that seadwellers could live off of raw fish, but Eridan certainly hadn’t been out fishing.

Deeply troubled, he poured the soup into a bowl, his stomach giving an uncharacteristic growl. That was strange, he didn’t remember feeling this hungry before. He shrugged it off. This was for Eridan, he needed it to steer them to… To what? Safety? Somehow the thought of walking into a barren desert and keeling over for the monsters was far less inviting. He still had no aim in life or desire to return to the painfully desolate life he’d led for the past few years, but actual death?

By the time he got back to the cabin, Eridan had awoken and was inspecting the messy stitches up his arm. At the sound of Dirk opening the door, he jumped.

“You coulda knocked first, Strider,” was his greeting. Dirk ignored it and went to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, I could do many things, none of which I have any intent of doing. How’s your arm?” Dirk asked, handing him the bowl. Eridan sniffed at it suspiciously, took a bite, then his uninjured earfin raised in poorly concealed enjoyment.

“Fuck, how much food are you packin’ down there,” he mumbled, then clearer; “and my arm’s fine. Not the best stitches I’ve seen by far, but my arm’s still on. Are you doin alright?”

“Actually I’m down to half a bag of chips and a bottle of fanta. That’s just what was in your kitchen. And sorry about your ankle, I really have no idea what to do for it, I was hoping you might enlighten me on that one.” Dirk replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Eridan frowned.

“It’s sprained, I took a couple painkillers a few minutes ago, they were kickin’ in as you walked in,” he winced as he pulled himself higher, “but I don’t think it’s broken. Needs some ice, elevation, all that.”

“Right. Ice. I’ll go get some, but first I need to check your back, I think it was bleeding.” Dirk responded, making a move to help him up. Eridan shrank back immediately.

“I don’t need yer damn pity, Strider, I can take care of myself so you can--”

“Oh yeah, sure, because you’re taking suuuch good care of yourself, that’s why you’re drunk and alone and sailing aimlessly without supplies, you’re the picture of self care.”

“Fuck off, what would a human like you know about self care? You came here to die!”

“What, and you didn’t?!”

Eridan flinched and they stared at each other in shocked silence. It was true, they both knew it. Dirk took a step forward, opening his mouth to apologize, somehow, but Eridan snarled at him. Two rows of jagged fangs flashed at him.

“Just leave me alone,” Eridan finally said. Dirk sighed.

“Fine. But first I’m going to check your back, because I know it’s injured,” here he widened his arms to show the bloodstains on his own shirt, “and I know you can’t reach it.”

The seadweller stared at him incredulously, then flattened his fins and glared up at him, as though mentally grappling with the concept that Dirk still genuinely wanted to help. The human crossed his arms and waited for Eridan to roll over. Eridan waited for him to leave. Eventually, the seadweller’s patience gave out and his shoulders slumped. He set the bowl of soup aside and rolled over onto his back, gasping in pain.

“Whatever. Hand me that bottle, will ya?” He grumbled, gesturing to the floor. Dirk glanced at what seemed to be brandy, then rolled his eyes and began pulling up the bloodied shirt.

“No. You’ve had enough to drink,” he pulled away the remaining cloth and recoiled, “and fuck. Just, fuck. I’m going to need it for your back.”

“That bad, huh?” Grumbled Eridan, arching his neck to look over his shoulder.

“Nah, it’s just some scratches,” Dirk lied thought gritted teeth. Truthfully, what lay below him was far from scratches. From what he could tell, Eridan had fallen on his ankle, then skidded across the floor on his back somehow. The skin there had been sliced to oozing, grey ribbons, the violet muscles underneath raw and painful looking.

“Doesn’t feel like jus’ a scratch,” he heard Eridan mumbling. His fins were still flattened, only now it seemed to be more in pain. He yelped. “Dammit Strider I don’t care, at least give me a couple a’ painkillers.”

“Sure.” Dirk nervously spilled two more white tablets from the bottle and handed them to the seadweller, who chewed them and went still again. Then, as an afterthought, he added; “this’ll hurt, sorry.”

Then he soaked a wad of cotton in brandy and began dabbing the mess that was Eridan’s back. In his defense, Eridan remained fairly quiet, only whimpering and yelping. Dirk felt bad. Maybe if he’d had more medical experience, this could be painless, but he doubted that any level of painkillers would numb this completely.

As he’d suspected, there wasn’t even enough skin left to put in any stitches. Instead he cleaned it as well as he could and coated it with a thick layer of something in a jar labeled [for severe burns]. He wasn’t sure if it would even help, but Eridan’s sigh of relief was enough confirmation for him. Dirk stood back and looked at it again. It seemed he was done.

“Alright, do you think you can sit up so I can bandage this up?” He asked, wiping his violet-stained hands on one of the white towels. Eridan groaned but nodded. With Dirk’s aid, he sat up in bed, swaying unhappily. Dirk moved closer to him and began wrapping the length of gauze around front in what he only hoped was the best way possible.

“You’re right, you know,” Eridan began. Dirk raised a brow but didn’t respond. The seadweller sighed and continued;

“I did come out to die. Honestly I wasn’t even plannin’ on bein’ around this long, but then you came along demandin’ a ride, and here we are. Did you… Did you really want me to drop ya off in the desert?” His voice was quieter now, more unsure than angry.

“Yes, I do.” Dirk said, trying just to focus on wrapping the gauze, forcing his voice to sound calmer than he felt. There was another stretch of silence. Then Eridan grimaced.

“Well, we’re both in luck then, because we got thrown so far off course that I couldn’t get us to land soon enough even if I was tryin’. Not to mention the lack of supplies, unless there’s far more canned soup than I accounted for,” Eridan said. If it was an attempt at humor, it fell flat. Dirk had finished bandaging him.

“Oh.” Was all Dirk managed to say. “I guess that’s fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Neither did Eridan apparently. Dirk was about to get up and leave when the troll did the last thing he could have expected. He hugged him. It was a bit awkward, but they shifted a bit until they were just holding each other, Dirk being mindful of the other’s injuries. Eridan was trembling against him, so cold and fragile. Nice as it felt, it hit him that this was the first he’d been hugged in months –why hadn’t he done this more often? And Eridan, fuck, how long had it been since someone had held him, too?

Worst of all was the nagging fact in his mind that he didn’t want Eridan to die. The person in his arms didn’t deserve that. He felt he should apologize for all this, as though somehow that would make the situation less painful. Yet they both remained silent. At last Eridan pulled away, mumbling apologies. His eyes looked puffier than normal.

“Sorry--”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I think we both needed it.”

Silence.

“...Did you call me captain while we were out there last night?”

Dirk opened his mouth to say no, then remembered the split moment where he had. They stared tiredly at each other. Then Eridan smiled. Dirk snorted. Within moments they were laughing, steadying each other, complaining that it hurt their bruises but somehow finding it that much funnier that it did. Nothing in the world mattered then.

What was left of that evening they spent sitting in bed –or in Eridan’s case, lying on his stomach-- and talking. Dirk learned more about his companion; he’d been an orphaner before Gl’bgolyb(what a mouthful!) had been slain, leaving him unemployed; the empress had lost interest in him after that and he’d taken on lussii hunting for taxidermists and the like, but it hadn’t been as heroic as orphaning. Like Dirk, he’d broken off contact with everyone who he’d thought cared about him. All he’d had left to his name was a gun and a ship.

And Dirk told him all that he wanted to know as well. Of his brother, and his friends, and the slow depression that took hold of him. Eridan nodded to all this, offering comments when he needed to. They understood each other. The depressive episodes, the lack of caring, of not knowing what to do. By the time the moon had ascended into the skies once more, it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He still wanted to die, he told himself, but at least he felt fine for now.

Eventually, Dirk pointed out that they both needed rest, and that he himself needed to change out of the tattered, bloodied garments which he still wore. The initial shock of the storm had passed and it was beginning to smell. They bid each other good night and Dirk helped pull the blankets over Eridan. Before he left, the seadweller reminded him that they needed to check the ship for damage tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be fun.

He crossed the splintered deck, down the now uneven steps and into the room below. He mechanically kicked aside the wires and manuals. Once he’d peeled his clothes off he sank into bed. Dirk was asleep within seconds.

That night he dreamed of gulls, and fish, and swimming, and oceans deeper than he could see, clouds surrounding him, enveloping him, and he knew he was okay.

He was swearing in pain, if possible, even before he awoke. Dirk had overestimated the numbing effect that was the shock of realizing he was still alive. It felt as though every inch of his body was on fire. Getting up was regrettable, as was pulling a clean shirt on over his head. Part of him wished he had stayed asleep, but he had to check on Eridan, find him something to eat.

Then returned a nagging thought to his mind, and that was about eating. He’d assumed that by this point he would be rotting somewhere, attacked by some wild beast, but starving to death? That couldn’t be fun. Maybe the seadweller had some fishing equipment somewhere on this ship. It would be a stroke of luck at best, especially considering how much had been washed overboard. He’d ask Eridan about it. But first, he had to go to the kitchen and find some ice for that ankle...

The troll was awake, surprisingly enough, by the time Dirk knocked on the door of the cabin. Inside, one of the windows had been flung open. That was strange. He didn’t even remember there being a window to begin with. One look at a wadded up curtain on the floor explained it. He allowed himself a small smile.

“You’re letting in some sunlight, what’s the occasion?” Dirk commented, taking his now regular seat on the bed. Eridan pulled one of his legs back to give him more room.

“Oh, I don’t know thought it might be nice for a change, instead a’ these damn oil lamps an- aaaah!” Eridan flinched as Dirk pulled back his pant leg and pressed the ice pack to his ankle. After a moment, his whole body relaxed and he closed his eyes with a sigh. “Thanks, Dirk.”

“Mhm. You’re not keeping it elevated like you’re supposed to,” Dirk replied, gently lifting the other’s leg and setting it on his lap. Eridan stuck his tongue out at him.

“Stop actin’ like some kinda lusus, Dirk, or I just might have to shoot you, feed ya to a monster,” Eridan said. Dirk shrugged.

“Doesn’t sound too bad. Nice and quick. And by the way, do you have any fishing stuff here? I thought I might as well catch something, since you’re out of canned soup.” Was Dirk’s response. Eridan thought for a moment.

“There should be a couple of spears in the bay, an’ my gun of course, but other than nettin’ I’m not sure what you’ll find,” his eyes narrowed, “and when’s the last time you ate?”

“This morning,” Dirk replied quickly, poking at the other’s claw-tipped toes. Eridan huffed.

“Bullshit,” Eridan snapped. Dirk glared at him.

“Well excuse me for not packing enough food to survive off of when I’m trying to die, Mr. “you’re not gettin’ any of my supplies”,” he grumbled, “if it makes you feel better I’ll go finish up the bag of doritos in my backpack.”

Eridan looked as though he was about to make some retort, then sighed and shrugged, eyes turned sadly up towards the ceiling.

“Why are we doin’ this, Dirk? We’re goin’ to die anyway, both of us, there’s no reason to keep this up. Fuck, why’d we even try so damn hard to survive the storm? We coulda just stood there on the deck an’ been pulled overboard, it wouldn’t even have hurt much, an’ now this, you’ve got me all patched up an’ tryin’ to find more food an’ I’m gonna go out an’ repair the ship once I can walk, an-” Eridan stopped short, as though he couldn’t continue. Dirk hesitated, then took his hand.

“I don’t know, dude, but if we’re going to die soon then we’d better make the best of our time here, right?” He asked, giving him a strangely genuine smile. Eridan began to contradict him, then stopped, and smiled, earfins lifting just barely.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

And so it was. At that moment, the two companions fully accepted their deaths, together. Dirk went out to find the spears and netting that he’d heard about, found them, and went to tell Eridan. With some help, the seadweller limped onto the edge of the boat with a book to watch the other fishing, taking the skewered fish and dropping them in an empty barrel whenever the human resurfaced.

That night, armed with a full range of spices and an onion, Dirk made a complete mess of the fish. This mess was salvaged by Eridan grumbling and directing him to no, don’t leave the stove on that high, put the oil in before the fish, onions cook first. They sat on the deck that night, eating what had been the best meal for the both of them in months. In each other’s arms, under the stars, they fell asleep. When they awoke it was again to each other, and it felt wonderful.

As Dirk had thought, Eridan was heartbroken over the loss of the wooden seahorse. The unfurling of the sails was far trickier this time, as the troll couldn’t climb the mast and wouldn’t let Dirk go near it after his own fall(“I don’t wanna be stuck with yer rottin’ body”). Finally, however, with much rope pulling, the sails hung once again. Even the wind was picking up. Neither of them had any idea why it mattered, as they had nowhere in mind to sail, but this was unspoken; it just felt nice to have accomplished something together.

Dirk constructed a makeshift crutch for Eridan, which made everything easier for the both of them. Eridan showed him how to steer the ship, even watched as the human spin the ship in a set of slow circles, cackling every time he was heard “aye aye, Cap’n”. Dirk made sure to say this as often as possible.

The collection of random pieces of equipment he’d built were brought up with their manuals. Eridan didn’t bother trying to hide his amazement. He also explained what some of the items were originally for in the manual. Dirk had apparently managed to pull together the lever for the engine in the boiling room, part of a toilet’s inner mechanism, and what he could only guess was part of a thermometer. Although, for as much as he held and looked at it, Eridan couldn’t quite figure out what the lightbulb dick was supposed to be for. Dirk actually laughed until there were tears in his eyes.

“Now you tell me what’s so funny about this fuckin’ scrap metal or I’ll shove it so hard up your-- no, stop laughin’, I’m serious here!” Eridan said adamantly, brandishing it at Dirk.

“It- fuck-” Dirk choked and held his sides, erupting into another fit of laughter, “it’s a human bulge, Eridan.”

Eridan stared down at it in confusion, then horror, then threw it at Dirk with a long string of unwriteable profanity. With poorly concealed laughter, of course.

Unspoken between the two of them, they began conserving clean water as their supply began to dwindle.

A week or so passed and Dirk’s bruises were all but gone. Eridan’s ankle had improved considerably to the point where he could manage walking without the crutch to an extent, but couldn’t depend on it. When he did, he would end up sitting on the floor somewhere, grumpily waiting for Dirk to pass by and help him back up. The human was always more than happy to comply. Sometimes by bringing him his crutches, or helping him limp to them, or else picking up the thin troll and swinging him over his shoulder. Eridan insisted that he hated it when Dirk did this. They both knew he didn’t.

Finally Dirk deemed the other’s back to have healed enough to be unwrapped. It was still quite a sight to look at, and Eridan began to panic when he managed to get an angle in the mirror to look at it. Within seconds Dirk was holding him from behind, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his shoulders, his spine, murmuring how beautiful Eridan was. His fins, his claws, the violet freckles that adorned his shoulders, the luminescent flecks of purple in his irises. Then they kissed, nervously at first, then in tears. Dirk told him how much he loved him. Eridan said he loved him back. Much of that evening they spent together, in bed, or just gazing at each other happily, in the safety of each other’s presence.

Now the kitchen really was bare. The only thing left unopened were the bottles of brandy, which Eridan hadn’t touched since the storm. All the hidden cans of food or mostly empty packets of food had been used up in creative fish-based dishes, with varying degrees of success. Even the spices were much lower than they had been before. They both insisted they didn’t mind all the fish. This wasn’t really true.

Eridan translated more books and manuals for Dirk. They fixed the sails with some linen. Eridan recovered enough to swim with the human, diving deeper and bringing back treasures found at the bottom of the ocean. Usually nothing exciting –shiny clams, crab, jars of seahorses in water that were almost immediately returned to the ocean-- but on one occasion he did find a moss-covered sword, which he presented to Dirk in the most dramatic way possible.

Swimming was more of a sport now, where Dirk would follow Eridan into the darkest depths of the ocean to look at glowing fish and whales. It wasn’t long before he regained all the swimming skills from his childhood. Sometimes he would just cling to the other’s shoulders and get pulled along by the far more skilled swimmer, feeling the water comb through his hair. Eridan taught him how to propel himself with his legs better. Dirk gave him a bouquet of colorful seaweed for his wisdom.

It didn’t take Eridan very long to introduce the human to FLARPing, and they spent hours chasing each other across the deck, pretending they were pirates or navy officers or both, working together or apart. The seadweller dug out a heavy chest under his bed once this became routine for them. “It’s from before all this” is all Eridan would say about it. Dirk didn’t push the topic. Inside the chest were cloaks of deep violet, and magic wands, and so much jewelry and costumes and even a pair of fake yellow wings. Thus, their collection of roleplaying outfits was greatly expanded upon, and they used it to their full advantage.

Dirk hardly ever traversed into the storage room anymore, preferring instead to sleep with Eridan. The strange coldness of the troll’s body was comforting, and he was glad to hear that his weird human warmth was greeted the same way. Thermodynamic equilibrium and all that.

Eridan confessed he’d been happier in these couple of weeks than he had been in the rest of his life put together. Dirk kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we split. There will be two endings, the good ending and the bad ending, you choose which you wish to make Canon.


	4. Bad Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the bad ending, you may skip it if you'd like

They were growing weaker.

It was the dehydration, the lack of calories, the unavoidable deficiencies that arose when one consumes nothing but fish and ground black pepper.

Neither of them spoke about it, no matter how clear the signs were. Dirk got winded far more easily, only swimming for meals. Eridan once more took up the crutch.

The costumes and props remained in a pile on the deck, abandoned. Someone suggested retrieving them, at least, but it was never accomplished. Such a trip out of the deck would take more energy than either of them could spare.

Finally the day came. They knew it was their last. Dirk didn’t know how, but when they woke up together, he looked down at his lover and an unspoken fact passed between him. Eridan held him a bit tighter.

Neither bothered getting out of bed for the rest of the morning. There was little talk between them. All they could do was hold each other, soaking in the last of each other’s presence, memorizing as many details as they could about each other. Dirk had never noticed the little scar on Eridan’s chin. He leaned forward and kissed it. Doing so hurt.

The light from the window began to fade. Eridan began to speak, but his voice cracked and he went silent again. A few minutes later he tried anew.

“Can we go out onto the deck?” He finally whispered, “it’s my ship and I… I’d like to be with her. I’d like to see the stars.”

Dirk nodded and pushed himself up onto one elbow, then stood up and helped Eridan to his feet. Slowly, as though moving in a dream, they walked out onto the upper deck. They made it to the bottom and slid to the floor, leaning against the railing, bare feet trailing in the water below. Had it always been this cold?

Taking Dirk’s trembling hand in his own, Eridan looked out at the setting sun before them. Dirk realized he no longer felt the coldness of the water below. He couldn’t feel his feet. That was okay. Then he couldn’t feel Eridan’s hand in his own, and almost teared up, but Eridan was smiling at him, just as numb as his companion.

Everything was okay now. He watched softly as his lover’s eyes glazed over, and followed suit before he could think about what it meant. Thinking was too tiring anymore, anyway. The stars reflected in Eridan’s eyes, in the tears that trickled down his face.

They had succeeded.


	5. Good Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part one of the good ending, in case you're not a literary enough masochist to accept the first ending as cannon

They knew they wouldn’t last much longer than this. With the lack of supplies, their supposed goal of death would accomplish itself.

...And yet with every day that passed, Eridan grew stronger, and Dirk grew happier, and life seemed to look up for them. Unspoken between them was the urge to cling to life more, to each other.

But how could they, if they were lost at sea like this? Eridan couldn’t figure out their coordinates and the main compass, previously flat against the deck, had been torn away by the storm. They didn’t really mind.

It was only until they were sitting in the crow’s nest together one day that this changed. Having gotten over his fear of climbing the mast, Eridan had permitted they go up together. So long as they were both tied to the mast in case they fell, of course. Eridan’s head was nestled under Dirk’s, both of them facing towards the rising sun. He was about to suggest they go back down and find something for breakfast when something caught his eye.

In the distance was a streak of brown, caught just out of the corner of his eye. He blinked. It was still there. Nudging the seadweller, who had dozed off, he whispered,

“Is there something out there?” Dirk said, pointing. Eridan sleepily slid his glasses up his nose.

“Hmm? I don’t see anythin’ other than...” He paused, then tensed. Swearing, he suddenly fumbled for the telescope and held it up. Eridan relaxed. Then tensed again. Slowly lowering it, he looked away from Dirk and began to speak, stopped himself, and slumped altogether.

“Yeah. Some kinda land. Probably nothin’, could just be the uncharted territory from before, I don’t...” He hesitated, nervous. Dirk gaped at him.

“You don’t what?! Eri, this could be land, there could be people and- and water! It might even be my own town! What if we got turned around, or the wind changed direction, fuck I could even see Dave again, and Roxy, we could get the ship repaired! Even… What’s wrong?” His voice slowed at the look on the other’s face.

“Dirk, I thought the point a all this was, you know, not survivin’?” Choked out Eridan, pulling away from Dirk’s arms. The human gestured at them both in exasperation.

“Eridan, at this point we’re going to slowly starve to death. Look at us. I know I came to die, but… Haven’t you at least considered it?” He looked at Eridan, eyes begging for affirmation. The troll just stared at him in confusion.

“Considered what, exactly? Sufferin’ long enough until I want to starve myself to death, then finally think maybe I can escape, then go back an try to live through all that again? I’m not goin’ back. I can’t,” he looked at the ground, “an’ I didn’t think you could either.”

“I know but I’ve been thinking and, shit, what if they do miss me? My cousins, my own brother, god I bet they’ve been looking for me,” he took Eridan’s hand, “and I bet there’s someone missing you too. I don’t know who, but there’s someone, there has to be.”

“Dirk, there’s not, no one on the face a’ this planet gives a damn if I live or die, that’s why I’m out here in the first place!” He nearly yelled. There were tears in his eyes. Pulling his hand away, Eridan seemed to deflate, avoiding Dirk’s eyes. Dirk was speechless.

“Eridan, please… Can we just go out and look? That’s all I’m asking. If it’s the place full of lussii, we’ll turn the ship around and sail away again. But if it’s not...” Dirk trailed off, his chest aching. Eridan looked as though he’d been betrayed. “Eridan, look at me, please!”

“We’ll go see. If you want I’ll drop you off.” Was the other’s curt response, flat and sharper than a knife. Dirk couldn’t bring himself to argue with this. He watched as the troll carefully climbed down the mast and followed suit, unsure what to say.

Someone had to care about Eridan, whether the troll knew it or not. Dirk had never realized that he himself could be missed, but the thought of Dave not caring about his disappearance seemed impossible, and Roxy, poor Roxy, was probably at her wit’s end trying to find him. He hated himself. If only he could find someone who meant the same to Eridan… Someone who would have tried to contact him. They were just stepping onto the deck when it came to him.

“Eridan, did you bring your phone with you?” He asked evenly, not trusting his voice to betray him. Eridan shrugged, eyes still away from Dirk’s.

“Yeah, but it’s got a dead battery an’ there’s no phone service out here.” His voice was shaking. Dirk tried to meet his eyes again, but Eridan’s slitted pupils flitted back to the floor.

“If it’s civilization, can I ask just one thing of you? Please?” Dirk asked, looking out at the strip of land. Was it getting further? Eridan’s only response was to shrug again. It hurt to watch. It was as if all the life that he’d gained over the past couple weeks had slipped away, leaving nothing but the broken troll he’d met when he boarded. He swallowed hard.

“Just stay long enough to charge your phone. Someone’s been trying to call you, or text you, I promise. Just stay long enough for that. And if there’s not then you can sail back out but-” he had to pause long enough to steady his voice again, “But I really don’t want that.”

Eridan stopped walking and looked up at him. Watery orange eyes met lifeless, slitted violet ones. Dirk wished he hadn’t looked up.

“...Fine.” Was Eridan’s response, just as curt as before. Dirk nodded.

“Thank you.”

Then Eridan was pulling at the sails, asking Dirk to steer in a tone so detached that Dirk could barely believe he was the same person from an hour ago. Nodding silently, the human walked up the stairs and positioned himself at the wheel, turning it clockwise and then making sure the pin was in the center, just as Eridan had told him. The memory hurt.

After that, all they could do was wait. Eridan returned to the cabin –the faint clink of bottles and a smash made Dirk wince-- while the human went back down to the storage room. It looked foreign, almost. His only trips down here had been to fetch the occasional manual or fresh clothing. He wondered if Eridan was okay, but knew that going to check would only make things worse.

And maybe it was just uncharted territory. Maybe they would arrive and find nothing but sand and shipwrecks. But then what? He knew that what had passed between them today couldn’t just be fixed. Dirk had accepted that he no longer wanted to die, which he’d suppressed this whole time and maybe, just maybe, hoped that Eridan had as well.

But he was wrong. Eridan was still out here looking for death, and now he knew that Dirk was not. What could he even do? Apologize? It was Eridan that had made him realize life was worth living in the first place. He didn’t even know if he could go back to a regular life alone.

It was the honking of other ships’ horns and distant shouting that awoke him. Dirk didn’t even remember falling asleep. The sounds grew louder and he panicked, fumbling to slip on his shoes and rushing up the steps. They were steering into the port, Eridan standing at the ship’s wheel. With a sigh of relief, Dirk walked up to him. At least everything was under control.

“Well, we’re here, Captain,” Dirk began, giving the other a forced smile.

“Mm.” Was Eridan’s disinterested reply, eyes fixed on the docks before him. He gave no other sign of acknowledgment. Dirk’s heart sank a bit more. All he wanted was for Eridan to share his enthusiasm. They had survived, the storm, the lack of resources, they made it out alive and full of stories to tell. Why couldn’t the seadweller see it like that? Grimacing, he stared ahead as well.

It was his hometown, he recognized it immediately by the towering statues. How he’d loved those before. Even though they were still too far out to see anything clearly, Dirk fancied he even recognized some of the people bustling along the docks. His mouth went dry. What would he say to them? “Hi I went to kill myself but now I’m back, please don’t be mad”? Maybe he could make something up, say that he had gone for a boat ride and then gotten lost at sea. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but why would he have left his phone on his bed but taken that much food?

Fuck, he couldn’t say that. It was almost enough to make him turn to Eridan and ask him to turn the ship around after all, but he couldn’t do that either. Instead he simply stood, occasionally glancing at the passive seadweller.

They docked.

All around them was the overwhelming sound of other people, of animals, the smells of food and grime and smoke. After weeks of nothing but each other and the ocean, it was nearly painful. The hull of the ship bumped gently against the stone dock. Eridan, just as calm and collected as he had been for the past couple of hours, turned around and walked down the steps. Dirk caught a whiff of alcohol. He watched as the seadweller mechanically took a length of rope, tied a quick loop in it and threw it onto the docks, where a deckhand waved and tied it down to a bar.

“There, happy?” Eridan said coldly, looking up at Dirk. The human glared at him.

“You know I’m not, Eridan,” he replied quietly. Then, hesitantly, “are you coming?”

“...I guess,” Eridan said after a pause, “since I’m almost out of brandy. Maybe buy a bundle of nightshade while I’m at it.”

Dirk winced.

Downstairs he grabbed his backpack and stuffed it full of anything he’d brought with him. The mossy sword hung at his belt. Eridan coldly gave him back his clothes that had been in the cabin. Dirk asked for the phone and received it. Then they left the ship.

If the crowds had been discomforting from up on the ship, it was nothing compared to being amidst the throngs of people below. Had the town always been this crowded? He nearly got separated from Eridan and almost tried to take his hand, but knew the outcome would only hurt more.

They turned down an alley and into one of the quieter areas, full of specialty shops. A few people gave them strange looks and Dirk became unexpectedly self conscious. He could only imagine how they looked. Haggard, dehydrated, and he’d lost track of how long it had been since he’d last shaved. Calliope had a shop somewhere along here, that much he knew. And she would know where Roxy was. Yet he couldn’t remember which was hers and was about to ask Eridan if they could go somewhere else when he stopped short.

Ten, maybe fifteen feet away, a figure stood still in the sidewalk before them. Dirk froze. Eridan stopped as well, beginning to ask what they were doing, then fell silent. A bag of apples fell to the ground and tore, forgotten by the figure who had been holding it. There was a series of rapid footsteps. A flash of red sent Dirk sprawling to the ground, followed by a mixture of sobbed cursing and jumbled questions. Dave Strider had found his brother.

He was all that Dirk had remembered and more. He had forgotten what receiving a warm hug was like, and the feeling of someone properly rounded, at that. His shoulder was soaked in tears and, unsurprisingly, he felt his own eyes watering. When they pulled away from each other, two pairs of Strider shades met.

“Dude, where the fuck have you been? We thought you went to visit Jake on the island but you weren’t there and Roxy didn’t eat for weeks and we looked everywhere and shit, we thought maybe you got lost or kidnapped, what happened? Are you okay? You look like a fucking corpse, one that got fucked over and rotted and got raised by some douchebag necromancer who left you to die again and-” Dave collapsed into another burst of tears. Eridan stood apart from them awkwardly, watching them with a reaction that Dirk didn’t understand.

“I- yeah I’m fine, I was kind of fucked up for a while I guess but it’s okay now, I uh, I went sailing with someone and we’re, we’re okay now I think.” Dirk replied, carefully choosing his words. Eridan looked away.

“So you- you’re back now? For good? Fuck I have to call Roxy, and Rose, and we need to get you a bath and a hot meal, god I’m so glad to see you.” Dave said, helping Dirk back to his feet and hugging him again. “And you are…?”

“Eridan Ampora. I sailed the ship he was on,” Eridan replied, taking the hand that was offered to him. Dave shook it distractedly and offered him a relieved smile.

“Well, you brought him back safe and sound, thank you.”

Eridan withdrew his hand and nodded, shooting Dirk a glare. The seadweller really didn’t want to be here, did he?

Against Eridan’s insistence that he needed to go “restock his supplies”, Dave made them both come to his house. Dirk was secretly thankful for this, he felt safer knowing that Eridan was here and not… Well, he was safe for now, and that’s what mattered.

Several calls later, Dave’s house was packed. Roxy did indeed look thinner herself, with bags under her eyes, and she didn’t quite stop sobbing after she hugged him. Jane was off on a business trip but said it was good to hear from him again. Rose was also out of town, but dropped everything to come see him. Although she said nothing, it was obvious she didn’t buy his “there was a storm and that’s why I’ve been away” story. Jake promised he was on his way, but it would be a couple days. Even John, whom he had barely spoken to before, gave him a hug and a huge smile. And Karkat, who he supposed was his brother in law now, chewed him out for the stress he’d put Dave through, then hugged him. Sitting here, surrounded by them all, he couldn’t conceive of why he would’ve ever left them.

Eridan seemed far less content. He stood off to the side, courteously greeting the guests. After a shower and several meals at once(“Why you look just as terrible as Dirk, you really must” said Roxy while she attacked him with a hairbrush), he looked much healthier, but kept trying to find excuses to leave. He seemed uncomfortable, worried, even. Dirk wondered when had been the last time someone other than himself had taken care of him.

Finally Roxy insisted they all leave and let him have some rest. Most of them did. Dave admitted he had to go finish the errands that he’d interrupted earlier and Karkat went back to his work. It was just the three of them. Then Roxy apologized and said she needed to go make sure she hadn’t left the stove on or anything and it was just the two of them, sitting in Dave’s living room. He didn’t know what to say so the silence stretched on until Eridan finally broke.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you? You knew they cared an’ would be missin’ you, you knew, how could you stand there an’ tell me they didn’t care?!” He nearly yelled, glaring at the human. Dirk’s eyes watered again and he looked down at the apple juice he was nursing.

“I- I thought they didn’t care, okay? It felt like no one gave a fuck about me, Dave was off settling down with a husband and a fucking white picket fence, Roxy was away on a holiday, Rose was going to college with her wife… I didn’t know, okay? I’m sorry.” He replied, angrily rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Eridan watched him coldly, then slumped and walked over to sit on the couch, taking him in his arms. Maybe he did care. Maybe it was just instinct from having been together as they had been. Whatever it was, Dirk clung to him.

“How the fuck do you think that, just look at them all, cryin’ an blubberin’ an talkin’ about how much they missed you,” Eridan accused, but the bite was gone from his town. Now he just sounded sad. Dirk held him tighter.

“I know, and I feel like a huge fucking dick, alright? If I knew it would upset them this much, I would’ve turned around and walked right back into my house. I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I really am. But there’s got to be someone who missed you too, on your phone?”

“Dirk, I would know if someone cared. But they didn’t, an’ that’s why I went out there and-” he nearly faltered, then took a deep breath and continued; “an’ that’s why I’m goin’ back out.”


	6. The End

They were silent again, watching as the sky outside grew darker. After the windows darkened, Dirk stood up and motioned for Eridan to as well, then reached under the couch and yanked. A spring uncoiled and a mattress unfolded. Eridan raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’ve slept here before?” He asked, helping to remove the cushions. Dirk chuckled.

“Oh yeah, plenty of times. When I was unemployed, when Dave needed moral support ‘round the clock to get ready for the wedding, when my old apartment burned down,” he walked to a closet and pulled out a pile of messily folded blankets, “when we let Rose tell the horror stories after movie night and was too afraid to walk home in the dark, or when we’ve had movie nights and I was just too tired to walk back… Hey, are you alright?”

“What? Oh. Yeah, ‘m fantastic,” Eridan mumbled. A look of wistfulness had shadowed his face, fins drooping and eyes transfixed on his hands. Dirk’s smile faded a bit.

“You- you never had that, did you?” Dirk asked slowly. Eridan shook his head. He remembered what the troll had told him, about being raised for the sole purpose of filling his role as an orphaner. He felt immensely guilty all of a sudden. There was no reason why Eridan shouldn’t have had this as well, if only they’d met before they’d gotten this bad, maybe things would’ve been different. The bed was made. He glanced awkwardly at the other.

“So are we gonna, um,” he nodded towards the bed, “...sleep together? Just, in the same bed, if not I could ask Dave when he gets back and we could dig up the inflatable mattress, if he still has it.”

“It’s fine, we can sleep together,” Eridan replied with a sigh. Dirk nodded and they climbed onto the stiff sofa bed, so different from the one in the cabin.

“Good night,” Eridan said, plugging his phone into the wall. The screen lit up with the glowing image of an empty battery. The seadweller settled down under the blankets.

“Good night,” Dirk responded, then switched off the light. All that was left was the faint glowing of the phone screen. Tomorrow Eridan would find his own people who missed him, he promised himself. He had to.

The next morning, Dirk woke up disoriented. The ship was unusually still, and were they sleeping on his cot? And the smell of eggs, was Eridan cooking eggs? No, Eridan was right here, safe in his arms. It was the singing that finally brought him back to reality.

“Fifty three bottles of juice on the wall, fifty three bottles of juice! Take one down, pass it around, fifty two bottles of juice on the-”

“Dave for the love of fuck I’m not going to come see your shitty human rap battle, now will you stop singing?!”

“-wall, fifty two bottles of juice! Take one down, pass it around-”

“Dammit if I wanted to see two loud as fuck unevolved bipeds making aggressive jumbled calls through hoarse, fucked up vocal cords, I’d go to the zoo and watch the tree beasts fling their own feces at each other-”

“-fifty one bottles of juice on the wall-”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll go, just for the love of god will you quit that, my hearing sensors are too delicate for this clownshittery this early in the morning- no, hey stop that!”

This was followed by what sounded like really messy kissing. Dirk lay awake, staring at the wall uncomfortably. His arm was wrapped around Eridan’s waist and, inevitably, his eyes were drawn to the cell phone. Its screen was dark again, but the LED light on the charger indicated it had a full battery. A sense of relief overcame him. As soon as Eridan woke up, they would turn it on, and everything would be okay.

As though roused by the sound as well, Eridan’s fins lifted, then fluttered, then he rolled over to look at Dirk.

“Mmmnnff, what’s? Where are w-” Realization dawned on his face and he frowned. Dirk considered trying to kiss him, while he was still confused, but decided that would only piss him off when he was fully awake. They pulled apart.

“Is your moirail-”

“Brother.”

“-Brother singing?” They both paused to listen. Dave was, in fact, singing again, only it was a different song. A moment later a hoarser, deeper voice joined in. Dirk gave him what he hoped wasn’t a worried smile.

“Sounds like it. He’s making breakfast, too,” Dirk said as he sat up, “and I can promise it’s not fish.”

“-Waaaaalking, between the raindrops with youuuuu!” Both voices chimed from the kitchen. A clatter of dishes was accompanied by laughing and sizzling. Someone was smacked with a rubber spatula.Eridan paused to listen, that same expression on his face from before. Dirk hadn’t quite been able to place it but now… Now he could. It was longing.

“..Nice,” mumbled Eridan as he sat up and stretched.

“What was that?” Asked Dirk, patting around until he found his glasses and slipped them on. Eridan shook his head.

“Nothin’, just sayin’ it must be nice.” He replied. Dirk sighed. He was about to say something else when Dave burst in, holding a spatula, bits of batter stuck to his cheek. His face brightened at the sight of the two of them.

“Hey, you’re up, did you guys sleep alright? You looked pretty warm, at least,” he commented with a smirk. Dirk’s heart sank.

“No, Dave, it’s not like that. We’re-” Dirk glanced at Eridan for affirmation and got none, “-we’re not like that.”

“Right. Just two good bros keeping each other warm, no homo and all that. Do you guys what coffee? Tea?” Dave replied, rolling his eyes. Eridan’s earfins perked up at that.

“S-some tea would be nice, earl grey if you have it,” he answered with more enthusiasm than Dirk had expected. It was rather endearing. He made a mental note to buy him a box of earl grey sometime, then erased the mental note because there was no way Eridan was going to stick around with him for that long. This realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Earth to Strider, are you having coffee?” Dave asked, twirling the spatula a bit. Dirk nodded glumly and watched him leave.

“Well, you wanted my phone, here you go,” Eridan said, pressing something into Dirk’s hands. He looked down at it with a feeling of grim anxiety that hadn’t been present before. Suddenly it felt as though the contents in this phone were a matter of life and death. Maybe they were. Someone was panicking, looking for Eridan and sending him messages, he just knew it; so why did he dread the power button so much?

“Yeah, about that, can we? Wait until after breakfast? I don’t want my food getting cold, so...” Dirk’s eyes fell again to the device in his hands. Eridan shrugged.

“Sure. Do you know where my clothes are? Your brother’s fuckin’ tiny, probably should’ve borrowed somethin’ from his matesprit,” Eridan said calmly, plucking at the fabric drawn tightly over his chest. Unlike Dirk, he hadn’t had a spare change of clothes here. Trying to act naturally, Dirk picked up the folded clothes off of the chair and handed them to the troll. They had been washed, dried, and one could call them folded to be kind. But honestly, none of the Striders knew how to fold clothes.

Eridan thanked him quietly and carried the clothes into the bathroom to change. Dirk layed back down, staring at the ceiling, wondering what would come out of this. Had the seadweller mentioned anyone in his life who might have tried contacting him? None came to mind. He knew the empress had broken their moirallegiance the moment her lusus became obsolete, and he’d spoken briefly of a lowblood whom he’d been in spades with but ended up overwhelmed and broke it. There had even been an adult troll, one by the name of Dualscar, who had held the title of Orphaner before Eridan. But this troll was probably dead and certainly wasn’t in contact with him. Maybe he had just forgotten to mention someone.

His train of thought was broken as Eridan walked out of the bathroom, hair wet and styled back. It even looked as though it had been trimmed. He nodded towards the bathroom and Dirk went to take his turn.

Breakfast was, in all reality, glorious. Dave and Karkat really outdid themselves. There were eggs, applejacks(a word which the younger Strider was immeasurably fond of now), bacon, fresh fruit, coffee and plenty of apple juice. They all crowded around the kitchen table and ate happily, discussing the news, what had happened while they’d been gone.

The town election had occurred and the mayor’s office was still held by The Mayor, for the eighth time running(his approval rate was 100%), and Dave had been offered a job as secretary of internal affairs. This he had turned down on account of not liking to do paperwork. Jake’s business had skyrocketed and he was planning on purchasing a new uninhabited island. Apparently his current one had been thoroughly explored and was up for sale now. Jade had joined Rose in college and was going to be working in animal protection services. Her dog, Bec, had completed his training, and everyone was invited to an “official service dog celebration” party. Jade was very excited for it.

Eridan measured how long his tea brewed, then carefully stirred in sugar and creamer, and what Dirk would have called elation spread across his face as he took a sip. They both ate their fill of breakfast, and when they were full, Karkat served them more. For as rough and uncaring as he pretended to be, his concern was obvious. He even insisted on checking Eridan’s gills and horns after breakfast, just to make sure everything was alright.

When the dishes had been cleared away, Karkat dragged Eridan into the bathroom with a first aid kit on account of finding gill rot. Dirk didn’t know what this was, but by the look of sullen agreement on the seadweller’s face, it sounded painful. Apparently Karkat, being a mutant, had his own set of gills as well. They were smaller, and didn’t function as well as the ones of a full-blooded seadweller, but they were there anyway. If Dave’s smirk was anything to go by, they were probably sensitive too.

It was just the two Striders now. Dirk was holding his third cup of coffee and already beginning to feel jittery, but didn’t care. Fuck, he’d missed coffee. Dave was wiping down the table.

“So, it’s “not like that”, then what is it?” Dave finally asked, nodding towards the bathroom. Dirk shrugged.

“Just two bros keeping each other warm,” he mimicked, “and those applejacks were really good. Is Jane teaching you how to cook?”

“That wasn’t the question, Dirk. He said he was going to leave soon and I don’t like the way he said it, like he was announcing that he was about to pirouette into his own damn grave. Is he okay?” Asked Dave, ignoring his brother’s attempt at changing the subject. Once again, Dirk felt a wave of guilt hit him. The others really didn’t know.

“I- look, I really don’t want to talk about it. Not today, preferably not ever. But listen. I need to keep him from leaving, at any cost, okay? I have a plan, and I thought it was pretty solid but now I’m having serious second thoughts about it and it’s, it’s complicated. But he can’t leave, he’ll-” Dirk paused at the look of worry on his brother’s face, “he’ll probably do something stupid. Doesn’t matter what. Please, for the love of god, don’t ask him.”

“Okay, dude. What the fuck. What the fuck happened out there that you were gone for weeks, then you appear with some kind of secret boyfriend, who is going to disappear forever or whatever if you let him leave? You both look like you’ve been through hell and back. Where were you even going? To visit Jake? I thought you usually took the passenger ships for that,” Dave said, taking a seat facing him. Dirk held the mug tighter.

“I… I fucked up. But now I’m back. That’s all you need to know,” he replied, taking another drink. The caffeine was already making him anxious. Dave froze.

“Dirk, you didn’t…?” He asked, staring at his brother. Dirk looked away.

“Oh- oh god, fuck Dirk, I’m so sorry, I had no idea-” Dave got up and hugged him again, tighter, now sobbing. Dirk patted his back, thinking about how much he hated himself. Dave didn’t deserve that.

“Just, don’t tell Roxy, okay? I think Rose already knows because she’s weird but not Roxy, she doesn’t need to deal with this,” Dirk managed to choke out. Dave nodded.

“You could’ve said something, I was right here, dammit Dirk I’m here for you, I was afraid that might’ve- I’m so sorry,” sobbed Dave. Dirk didn’t know how to respond to that so he mumbled an apology and held him until he was done.

Then they finished clearing up the kitchen, making meaningless small talk. Eridan and Karkat came back in a few minutes later, Eridan with something that looked like smelly toothpaste on his gills. It was nice to see them getting along, chattering about some troll author or other. Seeing the tear streaks on Dave’s cheeks, Karkat went to see if he was okay, and Dave told him not to worry. Now he was worried.

More small talk followed this, as well as several more cups of tea for Eridan. It was only once Karkat had left for work and Dave was in the shower that Dirk turned to the seadweller and realized he couldn’t put if off any longer.

The phone was where he had left it, on the rumpled sheets of the makeshift bed. With hands that could’ve been steadier, Dirk took a deep breath and held down the power button. The screen lit up with the familiar animations of the company. Then it was on the lock screen, with a photograph of some seahorses. He handed it to Eridan, who typed in the passcode. Dirk looked down at it.

 

[3 unread messages]  
[1340890****: horny highblood looking for ho…]  
[MoveOn.Org: sign this petition to end the po…]  
[GrubTube: new song by troll Starset, now ava…]

Dirk stared down at the phone in shock. Nothing. By the look on Eridan’s face, this wasn’t a surprise. His stomach felt as though it was full of ice and he set it down. Maybe his phone service had expired, or was out of range in the sea, or-

“I’m goin’ to take a shower and then I’m leavin’,” Eridan said matter-of-factly. Dirk couldn’t bring himself to respond. He’d failed. He’d failed and now Eridan was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it.

He tried calling Eridan with Dave’s phone. It rang. So there was phone service. Somehow this wasn’t a relief. He sat, immobile, eyes full of tears. Dirk only looked up as Eridan walked back out of the guest bathroom, fully dressed. He walked over to where Dirk stood.

“I guess I’d better do this before your brother comes out,” he announced. Dirk stared at him numbly.

“Eridan, please, don’t do this, it’s not-”

“Dirk. Don’t. Don’t do that. It’s easier this way,” he said quietly, then leaned in to kiss him. Dirk felt his tears rolling down his cheeks and reached up to cup his chin, pulling him closer. Then they were hugging. It was just like the first time.

Eridan was the first to pull away. He picked up his phone, finished his tea, nodded at Dirk in a final goodbye, and walked out the door. Dirk watched him. He couldn’t stop him, he couldn’t even move.

He was gone.

Dave came out of the shower and announced he was going to go make Dirk an appointment with a doctor online. Dirk didn’t hear him. His eyes were transfixed on the door, the door through which his companion had walked through, and it was as if in the very act of doing so, he had ceased to exist.

And then…

He reached for the phone and started typing.

[25 new messages received]  
[208905****: hey Eridan]  
[open message?] [yes] [no]

[208905****:  
hey Eridan  
I hope you’re okay  
I know shit’s kind of fucked up right now  
and I know you’re off  
probably on your ship or whatever  
but um  
I love you  
I loved you when you let me bandage your back and when you let me hug you  
I love your eyes when the light changed and your pupils expand and contract and I love when you smile and I love when you flarp as a pirate and I love when youre thinking hard about things and tap your claws on your desk and when you stand still and close your eyes just to breathe in the air and when you read aloud to yourself and let your wavy accent show  
I know im not much of a friend and I dont blame you for not wanting me anymore but  
theres someone who cares  
who misses you  
its me  
youve been gone ten minutes and im already panicking and wondering how the fuck im supposed to get through life if I cant even get through two minutes without you  
I miss you  
I love you  
youre so beautiful and you know far more about the ocean and ships then ill ever even comprehend  
you dont have to come back and you dont have to reply but im here  
its safe here you dont have to run away or fear abandonment ill take care of you  
I did after the storm and ill do it again  
because I love you  
I need you  
youre not alone anymore

He stopped typing. There wasn’t anything left to say. There was no response, he was too late. Dirk was numb. He set the phone down again. He lay back against the pillows. Time was nothing and his mind was empty, all he could think about was how he’d failed, how this was his fault. His eyes slipped closed.

By the time the front door opened again he was asleep.

Eridan set his phone down on the coffee table, hands trembling, and curled up beside him.

They were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus concludes my first ever finished ao3 fic


End file.
